


Can't Keep My Eyes Off You

by HoneyPot (BeepBeepBitchie)



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Chatting & Messaging, Craig is somehow a voice of reason and dont worry I'm also just as surprised as you are, Cult of Cthulhu, Eventual Smut, F/M, I'm so sorry for Clyde's screen name but also not, Local McCormick kid's immortality rises questions and forces some half assed answers, M/M, Medium Burn, Obvious pining for the first few chapters, Other Additional Tags to Be Added as the Series Progresses, Reader based loosely off The New Kid, Reader is Eric's new step sibling for plot purposes, South Park: The Fractured But Whole and The Stick of Truth are cannon for the most part
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 03:33:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15209987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeepBeepBitchie/pseuds/HoneyPot
Summary: Growing up with a separate group of friends you never really saw much of Kenny McCormick after elementary school, until your freshly divorced dad took it upon himself to woo Liane Cartman and subsequently make Eric your step brother just before your senior year of high school. You fell right back into that rhythm of childhood admiration, but realized quickly it had grown to a full blown crush - something your best friends were happy to point out to you at any given time.Things were fine, you thought the worst the universe could throw at you was Eric Cartman as a step brother or a schedule full of AP classes.That is until Kenny McCormick dies in front of your eyes one day, only to waltz through the front doors of your high school a few days later acting as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.You want answers.He does too.





	Can't Keep My Eyes Off You

You heard the stomping before your alarm even had the chance to go off, the dull thuds and knocking around of cabinets from the first floor leaving your morning soured far before any teenager could have cared to be awake.

Four months of living in the basement, and your dad still hadn't picked up on your multiple complaints or exhausted glares from across the breakfast table and realized that he wasn't exactly walking on eggshells when he tumbled down the stairs and made his way to the kitchen every morning.

You groaned, rolling across the mattress and catching yourself in the heap of blankets your newly appointed step mother had bestowed upon you the second you were given the key to the coldest depths of the Cartman household. You snuggled against thin quilts and fluffy cotton stuffed comforters, finding that even though you had been rudely awakened before the butt crack of dawn, that your exhaustion from the day before still waned on you and made for a easy lapse of indifference as you tried to shut out the noise from upstairs.

After all, if your dad was keeping to his normally strict schedule, then he had started rummaging through the kitchen fridge at around five forty-five, meaning you had a good twenty minutes before your actual alarm would sound and you would be forced to actually start your morning routine.

You laid still, drowning out the stomping and odd noises of the house settling, drifting peacefully between that thin veil of being awake and resting, enjoying the peace until a slam jolted you from your stupor and you jerked your head to the top of the stairs that lead to your ‘bedroom’ door.

The basement lights flipped on, blinding you momentarily as you shrank away from the sudden invasion of privacy, twisting in your sheets and blankets to get a better look at the intruder and rolling your strained eyes once you found the ever so plump and bratty figure of your step brother.

“Get the fuck up- Mom’s making breakfast and she wants it to be a _family ordeal_.” Came his venomous tone, one you had grown far too used to years before your parents joined in holy matrimony, which made it that much easier to toss your head back to the warmth of your pillow and dismissively flip the heavy set boy off.

“Fuck you. My alarm hasn’t even gone off yet.”

Eric scoffed, dropping down the rickety steps of the basement and shuffling to your bedside, still in a matching pajama set and still somehow succeeding in giving off a vaguely menacing aura.

“You think I wanna be up before the sun rises? Get fucking real, step-freak.” He perched a barefoot on the iron frame of your bed, giving it a shake or two. “Get your ass up. I’m not gonna ask again.”

You ignored the quaking of your mattress, grabbing a pillow from where it was tucked under the blankets and chucking it in his general direction, shutting your eyes when you heard a gruff ‘ _Oof_ ’ knowing you had hit your mark and hiding a smirk, thinking back to the old days when your incredible aim had helped you volt pebbles and plastic shuriken Eric’s way instead of simple pillows.

“I said-” Eric smacked your pillow back down on your own head, tossing it down a few more times for extra measure and succeeding in gathering your attention, your arms flailing around in attempt to battle off the mostly harmless attack, your curses and threats muffled by his barrage of cotton packed strikes to your sleep numbed head. “Get **UP** ”

“Fuck- You- Cartman!” You yelped between blows, clawing for charge of the pillow, finally snatching it back and rolling away from him with a drawn out groan as he hovered by the edge of the bed. “I’ll be there in like twenty fucking minutes, Christ!”

“Make it ten, Step-Freak.” Eric sneered, kicking the frame once more and letting out a soft curse when he did so, limping away before stomping back up the steps with uneven strides. “And I call dibs on the bathroom first!”

“Whatever!” You called back over your shoulder, giving a huff when your door thankfully slammed shut, meaning he had finally retreated back upstairs and away from your only means of escape from the rest of your now dysfunctional family.

Eight years later and Eric was still a dick, nothing had changed aside from him shaving the barest amount of his baby weight and gaining some muscle under the ripples of fat he called his ‘toned physique’ thanks to his newest ventures on the local football team- that, and, he had grown to tower over a nice chunk of your childhood friends, rivaling Craig Tucker, Kenny McCormick and Token Black in height only.

The rest of you felt absolutely dwarfed, but it had never been your biggest pet peeve, perhaps it was more so Kyle’s because he had grown far too tired of becoming Eric and Kenny’s arm post but he was a perfectly normal height liken to his best friend Stan. You, however, loathed something entirely different about Eric that the rest of your friends would have never had the honor of dealing with; being Eric’s step sibling and living with the fucker all day everyday.

You stood from bed, stretching and cracking cramped joints, letting out sighs of relief while surveying the basement, still glad that after all the months of living with the Cartman’s that Liane had been sweet enough to urge your dad to redecorate the bottom floor to a more liveable state.

Where there was once cracked concrete floors and stained stone walls was now freshly drywalled and insulated walls, coated with eggshell paint and dressed with your chosen posters and shelves, a mirror hanging just beside the stairs and tapped up with countless photos of you and the people you held close in your life. The carpeted floors were a nice change from the cold and hard concerte that sat before, and you shuffled across it, passing your armoire and dresser, heading to the small collection of bean bag chairs huddled by the underside of the stairs, which had been - after countless hours of begging from Eric - a gaming station, complete with a newer flat screen and a few systems, all of which you breezed past to snatch up a game case, shaking it and frowning when you found it empty.

“God dammit…” You muttered, glancing at the Red Racer case and to the consoles that were stacked under the wall mounted flat screen, trying to find the playstation 4 amongst the chaos, finding it after a moment of searching.

Pressing buttons on the resting playstation you took the game that slide out, tucking it into the case and smacking your lips together, nose scrunching when you caught the taste of sleep in your mouth, not at all keen to keep it as it was before partaking in breakfast. You turned from the gaming zone, tugging the loose curtain that served as your biggest means of privacy from such place back towards your bed, the cut across the basement seeming all too short once you reached just before your full length mirror. You humored yourself with an indignant snort once you made it there, thinking about how unfair it was that the room that was meant to serve as _your_ bedroom was still somehow held hostage by Eric, despite the fact that he could have easily implemented his gaming setup in his own room instead of cutting the limited space you had directly in half for his own selfish gain.

Sometimes the way Liane spoiled her only son bothered you, other times, you reflected on the fact you only had a single school year left to go before you could zip off to college and leave the small little mountain town of South Park behind, and it made you feel much better in the end.

Turning from the lilac colored privacy curtain you flinched at the shrill chime of your alarm, rushing to your bedside and tapping dismiss as quickly as possible, tossing the device on your bed and hoping it wouldn't get too lost in the jumbled of blankets you hoarded, taking to your dresser and tugging out a fresh wardrobe for the day, hoping that breakfast wouldn't be a disaster, and double hoping Eric wasn’t going to be a douche… Though the latter seemed like a prayer more than anything.

 

“There she is- good mornin’ munchkin!” Your dad greeted you after you arrived from your morning visit to the upstairs bathroom, ignoring the way you grunted in response, beaming despite himself. “You took a while to get up! Excited for senior year?”

Shuffling past the threshold of the kitchen and nabbing a glass from the counter, you gave a half assed shrug, feeling your pocket give off the first tell all signs of early morning texts from your group chat beginning to blow up your phone, the ferocity of the vibration in your jeans catching the attention of Eric all too easily.

“What’cha got in your pants [First Name]? One of those secret lady buzzers, or are you one of those girls who had to put one on a stylish little chain and try to pass it off as a necklace in public?” He quipped from his seat at the decked out dining table, snickering from behind a bottle of orange juice when when his mother gave him a disapproving look from her position at the stove.

Liane scraped scrambled eggs onto a plate, stuffing a large spoon in the pile as your dad followed Eric’s laughter with a chuckle of his own, muttering to his wife about how the banter was simply ‘sibling stuff’. “Keep it civil, kids.”

“The fact you know what those are is questionable in it of itself, dear brother.” You snapped, dropping down in a seat as your dad wandered over carrying a stack of pancakes, Liane following right after with eggs and bacon, settling the food down in time with your dad as they took their seats at opposite ends of the table and scooched their chairs in with minimal scraping sounds.

“Whatever. What's the deal anyhow?” Your step brother nodded at you, tugging the plate of pancakes his way and stabbing them to transfer them to his own plate. “Big party or something?”

You poured yourself a glass full of orange juice, passively pulling out your phone, ignoring the on and off buzz as you unlocked your screen and found the group chat messenger, scrolling through the most recent texts as your dad and Liane settled into a comfortable routine of idle chatter, Eric’s eyes glued to you, ever the prying asshole.

  


**CrybabyBitchBoy (6:14am):** Y’all fucKING READY FOR SENIOR YEAR?

 **Token (6:15am):** Depends, who am I picking up this morning?? Because if I have to drive any of you to school I’m putting my foot down over music choices

 **SpaceGay (6:15):** No fuck you Clyde its too early for your shit

 **CrybabyBitchBoy (6:15am):** Are you censoring my AUX cord rights??? Token. Dude. Bro.

 **Token (6:16am):** Craig or [First Name] can have the AUX but you’re banned AF

 **BeepBeepJimmy (6:16am):** RIP Token’s trust in you after you blared Vanessa Carlton in his car on the way to Denver this summer.

 **BeepBeepJimmy (6:16am):** You played yourself man

 **Spacegay (6:17am):** I’m taking Tweek to school, dont worry about us token

 **CrybabyBitchBaby (6:17am):** You’re all faithless hoes. Ya boy is hurt.

 **Spacegay (6:17am):** I’ll take _@EricsAChode_ with me if she ever fucking responds to the chat

 **ProfessorT (6:17am):** Anyone have your classes yet?

 **Token (6:18am):** Nah

 **CrybabyBitchBoy (6:18am):** no gonna get them at school

 **BeepBeepJimmy (6:18am):** We get them from faculty at school T

 **Spacegay (6:18am):** ^^^^ Tweek says we get them in the cafeteria instead of the gym like last year

 **ProfessorT (6:19am):** I’m going to get ready then. See you at school, maybe we’ll all have a class together like freshman year?

 **Spacegay (6:19am):** We can only wish, T. _@EricsAChode_ where the fuck are you bitch

 **Spacegay (6:19am):** Do you want to take the bus and suffer with fatass or ride with me / token? _@EricsAChode_

 **Spacegay (6:19am):** _@EricsAChode_ Hello??

 **BeepBeepJimmy (6:19am):** _@EricsAChode_ Hem hem thot, we are speaking to you

 **CrybabyBitchBoy (6:20am):** Who the fuck changed my name from _@CaptainAwesome_??

 **CrybabyBitchBoy (6:20am):** _@Spacegay_ WAS IT YOU?

 **Token (6:20am):** :)

 **CrybabyBitchBoy (6:21am):** That hurts, Token.

 **ItsYeBoiANXIETY (6:21am):** _@EricsAChode_ We’re gonna stop at your house by 6:55 so be prepared

 **Spacegay (6:22am):** Tell fatass to shove it if he’s being a cunt I know your alarm goes off at 6:05 so you should be up _@EricsAChode_ why arent you answering??

 **BeepBeepJimmy (6:23am):** _@EricsAChode_ getting pretty for a certain blond or?? Are you ignoring ya bois?

 **Spacegay (6:23am):** _@CrybabyBitchBoy_ also youre riding with token fuck you for waking us up

 **CrybabyBitchBoy (6:24am):** Did I interrupt a boinking/cuddling session? My bAD //

 

You smiled over the rim of your glass, sipping at the contents slowly as Eric’s eyes narrowed from across the way, his plate becoming a soupy mess of syrup and butter as he slathered his breakfast in both, not caring about the poor fluffy scrambled eggs he was defiling with the sugary maple flavor of the thick syrup or the bacon that struggled fruitlessly to balance a top the mass of food he had pile on his plate.

“What's so funny?”

Typing away you barely spared him a glance, giving a nod of your head to your dad in thanks when he placed a pancake on your plate. “Thanks dad, and none of your business, Cartman.”

“You’re an honorary Cartman, that name doesn't have such a sting to it from you anymore, step sister of mine.” He mocked your earlier sentiments with a crass tone, stabbing into his food with a roll of his eyes, tearing his breakfast apart while you texted away.

 

 **EricsAChode (6:26am):** Sorry Craig. Slow to the roll today. Lord Assmunch woke me up before my alarm and stuff

 **Spacegay (6:26am):** If his car wasnt totaled from bebes party I’d fenderbend him for you

 **Token (6:26am):** What about your car?

 **Spacegay (6:26am):** I’ll take a few scratches in the name of justice token, I aint no bitch

 **BeepBeepJimmy (6:27am):** Debatable

 **EricsAChode (6:27am):** Debatable dude

 **CrybabyBitchBoy (6:27am):** lmao debatable

 **EricsAChode (6:27am):** The tribe has spoken and we all agree you’re a bitch but we love you, Craig.

 **Spacegay (6:28am):** Fuck all of you

 **EricsAChode (6:28am):** Fuck you more, and I’ll be out by 6:50. I’m bringing Red Racer, thanks for letting me borrow it!! Cartman played it too I think. Sorry?

 **Spacegay (6:29am):** If there are scratches I’m killing fatass, then you

 **EricsAChode (6:29am):** Let me watch you do it and I’ll welcome death like a long lost lover

 **BeepBeepJimmy (6:30am):** You and Pete Thelman would be a match made in heaven then

 **EricsAChode (6:30am):** Thelman is hot I’d tap that and if any of you argue, you’re liars and you know it.

 **Spacegay (6:30am):** would tap 11/10

 **ItsYeBoiANXIETY (6:30am):** ^^^ But only if he doesnt talk about goth stuff I still die a lil inside when I think out 7th grade when he wrote poetry about clithulu

 **BeepBeepJimmy (6:30am):** ****Cthulhu

 **BeepBeepJimmy (6:30am):** Wait

 **BeepBeepJimmy (6:31am):** clit hulu

 **CrybabyBitchBoy (6:31am):** Clitorus hulu

 

You tucked your phone away, seeing no reason to watch or participate with tearing poor Tweek apart for his spelling error, something your best friends adored to do, though Jimmy and Clyde were more responsible for the teasing than anyone else. Reaching for the syrup, you began to cut into your already cold pancake, tossing the thick maple goodness a top it without much care and settling the bottle down after a good amount oozed over the sides of your pancake, taking a few bites and wondering to what the day had instore for you just before your dad drew you from your thoughts.

“Kiddo? Didya hear me and your mom?” Your dad asked, biting down on a piece of bacon and chewing, waiting for your response.

“Uh, sorry. No. Talking to Craig and the guys, sorry.” You smiled apologetically, shoving off the unease you felt at the casual way your dad had referred to Liane as your ‘mom’.

Over a mouthful of bacon, you dad nodded. “We were saying that we’re gonna need you and Eric to shovel snow from the driveway later tonight, okay? Before you two go to bed.”

“Sure, whatever.” Raising an eyebrow your eyes flickered to Eric, who clicked his tongue in distaste, shoveling a spoonful of maple flavored eggs in his mouth. “But since it's the first day back to school, I was going to go hang with Craig after school, is that okay?”

“Of course.” Liane said, though you hadn’t been asking for her permission in the slightest. Still, you considered it an A-okay by the way your dad didn’t respond, settling back in his seat and resuming is meal. “Just be home for dinner, if you could.”

“I normally eat at Craig's when we hang, actually.” You countered, taking a few more bites of your pancake, throwing back a few gulps of orange juice and watching Liane’s frown begin to form. “But if it's okay, maybe I could have him and my friends over and Craig could stay over for dinner? Maybe Clyde too? If there is enough?”

“Actually,” To your relief, a warm smile replaced the forming frown, showing Liane wasn’t necessarily looking to punish you and keep you from your friends, but most likely hoping for you to attend dinner with your dad and her son to give her a sense of family connection that you could understand she would be looking for. “That sounds nice. It’s the first day back anyhow, why don't you and Eric invite your friends over and play your little video games downstairs and we can order in pizza? That sounds fun, right?”

“ _Mom_ ,” Eric instantly whined, turning on her and regenerating back to the bratty fourth grader you had met him as, complete with the pout and everything. “I dont wanna hang out with [First Name]’s friends, they’re all assholes! Especially Craig!”

“Poopykins,” You held back a gasp of nefarious laughter, clamping your mouth shut tight in an effort to muffle the snort you gave off at the childhood nickname Liane still hadn’t grown out of calling her son. “You need to learn to make friends outside your little group. Besides, didn’t Craig and the other boys play with you back in the day? Why can’t you do that again, for your sisters sake?”

“Hm. Well, _maybe_ because I don't fucking want to share my basement with her in the first place and now she's living down there-”

“Just deal with it, I have to deal with your friends.” You retorted simply, interrupting the brunette and promptly standing with you plate in hand, turning from the table just in time to hear Eric sputter an response of his own.

“It's my house!” Eric argued immediately, but you were already scraping the remnants of your meal into the trash and hurrying to rinse the dish off in the sink, too preoccupied with the task to give a damn. Staking the dish on a drying rack you dried your wet hands over the thighs of your jeans, turning back to your family and eyeing your step brother with veiled hostility, which he happily did on to you as well.

A match of wits was cut short however, when your father coughed awkwardly, shoveling another slice of bacon into his mouth and talking over the food.

“Aren't cha gonna be late for the bus, kids?”

“Actually,” You narrowed your eyes just the slightest, but tore them away from the brooding boy at the table and softened them once they reached your dad, coming to his side and pecking a kiss on the top of his head. “Craig and Tweek are taking me to school. I need to head out, I love you Dad.”

“Love you too Kiddo.” He replied through broken bits of pork, leaving you to brush by Liane and pat a her lovingly on the shoulder, still growing a bit loose with the affection she deserved after all the months you had spent with her as your new mother.

“Bye Liane, don't overwork yourself. Breakfast was great.” You said genuinely, passing her and heading through the kitchen threshold and towards the living room.

The white noise of the news played softly in the background, something that made it easier to slip on tight and warm winter boots over, the snow already hitting your sleepy little town full force before september had even began. Tugging a thick maroon jacket over your shoulders you zipped it up, pulling dark gloves on before stuffing a pair of earmuffs over your head, knowing that despite how sweltering the ensemble felt while you were inside the well heated Cartman home, that it would be a welcomed shield against the icy weather that awaited you just outside your front door.

You picked your backpack off from the coat rack nailed beside the door, tossing it over a shoulder and unlocking the door, opening it to reveal a winter wonderland that rivaled the most nostalgic of christmas time movies. “Wonderful.”

You passed the threshold and onto the front steps, closing the door behind you and checking the time on your phone as you hopped off the steps and crossed the snow covered lawn, heading to the sidewalk to wait for a curbside pickup from your best friend and his boyfriend. At 6:37 you still had plenty of time to kill, but somehow the act of standing under the brisk overcast sky of a typical South Park morning absolutely beat the idea of sticking by the family breakfast table and making nice with Eric, someone you barely tolerated as a new kid in fourth grade, and someone who you completely loathed as a step sibling a mere eight years later.

You stuffed your gloved hands into the warmth of your pockets, flexing the fingers inside them and huffing a sigh, knowing that you would begin to regret the early retreat outside, thinking to yourself that the town you had called home for so long was unnaturally cold so close to the end of summer,  surrounded by mountains or not.

A crunch of snow laden footfalls caught your attention and you turned to your left, forgetting your bitter weather thoughts and suddenly finding your heart hammering in your chest as an approaching figure strolled down the sidewalk with a cigarette held between fingerless gloves.

Kenny McCormick pressed the filter of his menthol death stick to his uncovered lips, and you watched as they quirked into a friendly smile while he came to a slow stop at your side, towering above you and politely blowing sweet smelling smoke over his shoulder and out of your way.

“Hey New Kid, howya been?” He taunted lightly, the nickname you had been plagued with so many years ago leaving his lips so easily and forcing you to bite back a stutter of an answer, instead giving him a awkward thumbs up.

He stared at the gesture, bright blue eyes twinkling with a barely hidden mischief. “Still mute I see.”

“Uh,” You felt a burn to your cheeks, recovering quickly despite the blood rushing in your ears. “I’m still half awake, sorry. You know, first day back jitters.”

Kenny took a drag of his cigarette, limiting his grin to a smile, a freckled cheek stamped over with a neon pink princess brand band-aid, something that wouldn't go unnoticed by the rest of his friends later on, you were sure. In the moment however, your gaze lingered on it, noticing the slight yellowish bruising underneath it, but glanced away as soon as you caught yourself doing so.

“Getting a ride from someone?” He drawled easily, digging into the front pocket of his brilliantly orange colored jacket, a mere shadow of a call back to his childhood parka he had never been seen without until he played superhero with you and the other neighbourhood kids.

“Yeah, Craig. Taking the bus?”

“Mmhm.” Smoke curled from his mouth and he brushed a few strands of wild blond hair from his cheek, watching you shift from foot to foot before glancing at your home, then wandering his eyes back to you. “Cartman leave yet?”

Your eyes flickered to the house, quickly winding back to Kenny as you shook your head. “No. Still there. Warm and toasty. Being a cunt. The Norm.”

He laughed, a musical sound really, deep from the years of nicotine abuse and rough housing he got into as the months progressed and he grew up. The bruise on his cheek was no accident, you knew. Whispers and rumors, none ever confirmed by even his closest friends, ran through South Park on a weekly basis. Some days Bebe might mention that she saw Kenny hand another kid a dime bag of colorful pills at one of her legendary house parties, or one of the goth kids could be heard in passing saying they caught him running around the town at night by his lonesome while wearing a look of model indifference and carrying a soft splatter of blood across his jacket.

You believed them to all be lies. Kenny McCormick was a lot of things, but a theoretical serial killer (Goth Kids) or secret drug dealer (Bebe) didn't seem quite plausible.

He was an easy going guy, someone who smoked a little weed once in a while when he had the chance (So did Craig, it really wasn’t a big deal), stayed out a little too late on school nights and tried to keep his head above water in school. He kept alright grades, excelling in history and science and kept a careful eye on his younger sister Karen when he could. He wasn’t some outcast brooding weirdo, just a normal run of the mill small town boy who no doubt wanted something bigger and better once the chains of high school were taken off, something you could completely understand and relate to.

You had no idea when you first developed a crush on him, it could have been all the way back in fourth grade during the countless neighbourhood games of pretend or just a few years ago, but somewhere between then and that very moment, you had found yourself moulding like putty in his hands and every time he laughed or even spoke to you you would feel your knees tremble. You had shared a handful of classes with him over the years, seated right beside him during fourth and fifth grade before being skipped around to separate homerooms and class times during middle school and presumably ghosting another once you established yourself more so with Craig and his friends than Kenny’s normal gaggle of friends like Eric, Kyle, Butters and Stan.

You lived closer to them all sure, but you never felt the small pull to them as you had to smart mouth Craig Tucker or buzz brain Clyde Donovan. You were happy to pass them all by and make the march from your block to Tweek’s instead of Kyle’s, even if it did mean you wouldnt see much of Kenny by doing so.

Then in your freshman year your parents split. It was a long time coming and no one, least of all yourself, was surprised when your parents announced the divorce and went their separate ways. Your mom packed up her life and relocated to New York, where she had been raised, and you stayed with your (slightly) more stable dad to rot in south Park until your big break for college.

You had no idea how it started, despite Eric having his theories and you making a guess once, it just came out of the blue. Your Sophmore year was when your dad sat you down and confessed he had been seeing Liane Cartman. It was a shock at first, and the forced dinners and ‘family’ outings each parent pressed onto you and Eric soured your relationship more and more as the months went on, neither of you exactly liking the idea of having to both share the individual parent or personal space that eventually came with their relationship.

The summer of your Junior year was when your dad proposed and when you conceived defeat alongside Eric, the two of you throwing your hands up in surrender and allowing the marriage to pass without incident. Still, moving from your old house and being forced into the underbelly of the Cartman home made you feel more like a begrudging cinderella than a full fledged member of the family, and sometimes you wondered if Eric orchestrated it that way on purpose.

The only good thing that came from the coupling of Liane and your dad had honestly been Kenny. Two years blew by in a breeze, your forced companionship with Eric giving you a new lease to visit with the blond every so often if he dropped by, or when Eric had once been ordered to drive you home by his mother and you would be squished between him and Stan in the backseat of the car.

He was always talkative with you, and between a menthol embedded cigarette and a freckled grin you felt childish admiration form into what you realized was a full fledged crush, one all your best friends were wise to well before you had been.

Through his laugh you stumbled into a quiet one of your own, falling into a comfortable stance, scratching at your chin and finally letting down your guard despite the steady thrum of a quickened heartbeat that drummed against your ribcage.

“Sorry, kinda mean I know, but he is _such_ an ass.” You said made the effort to say, dropping the hand from your face and watching the boy before you flick his cigarette to the sidewalk, stamping it out with junky looking hiking boots, the tops torn and frayed but stitched together enough to provide shelter from the elements.

“I get whatcha mean, [First Name]. Don't worry.” He mused, watching you through his lashes as the crackle of a car driving over fresh snow was heard, the two of you looking up to find a bright red sedan pulling up beside the curb. “I think that's your ride, and my ticket to head to the bus stop.”

The drivers side window inched down, a pair of striking blue eyes peering from inside the leather interior. “Get your bitch ass in, [First Name]. ‘Sup McCormick?”

“Nothing much, hand my cancer stick for the day, feelin’ frisky.” Kenny wagged his eyebrows, the silver stud on the right side wiggling along with the action. “Might see if I can get lucky at the bonfire this friday.”

“Gross. I didn't want your life story man.” Craig said with distaste, jerking his chin towards the back of his car, hoping you would get the message. You did, but hesitated at the blonds side for a mere second, facing him again with a smile.

“Thanks for the company, Kenny.”

Tugging the bare fabric of a brown neck warmer over his mouth and brushing past you with a glimmer in his eyes, your crush nodded in your direction, departing with a muffled goodbye. “Thanks for having me, New Kid.”

Dazed just the slightest, you fumbled to open the backseat door, watching after Kenny’s retreating form as he traveled down the path towards the bus stop. “B..Bye-”

“He can't hear you get in the fucking car i swear to god.” Craig complained, and you jerked your door open, ducking inside and slamming it shut behind, your best friend rolling up his window and promptly blasting the heat as soon as you were safely buckled up.

Tweek bent around in his seat, dressed smartly in a navy button up you vaguely recognized as belonging to the dark haired driver and not himself, but said nothing, the bright smile he wore enough to blind all your thoughts.

“Ignoring the really stupid way Clyde put it, I’ll repeat the qu-que-question of the day. Are you ready for senior y-year?” He shifted the dark green winter coat from his lap to the backseat where you sat, taking a moment to shuffle about with something else in his hands before handing you a small paper cup with a coffee label clearly branded by his family name. “Short double shot, one pump of white mocha, two pumps of vanilla and steamed cream, per usual request.”

Craig inched away from your curb, giving you all the chance to catch your step brother exit the house with haste, the bus surely coming soon if your time was still right. None of you paid much mind, though you knew the three of you secretly revered at the sight of watching Eric hustle his ass across the lawn and trip in the snow by the shared snorts and snickers every passenger and driver made that morning.

“Yeah, I’m excited. Counting down the days until spring, then I might get a response from the thirty million colleges I’ve applied to.” You said over the rim of the piping hot coffee, taking a sip and savouring the liquid energy, letting out a  near orgasmic sound at the taste. “God I love being your friend. Bless you and the coffee gods you call your parents.”

“You call that coffee? Its fucking sugar.” Craig shot you an eye roll through the rear view mirror while cruising down the street, the hand that rested on his boyfriends thigh not going unnoticed, nor the comforting circles the pad of his thumb made against the blond’s jeans. “But I feel you. I just need to get past this semester with A’s and I’m sure MIT or Stanford might actually take me.”

“Ah yes, Aerospace engineering. The nerdist shit you could possibly want to do with you life, but very respectable compared to my ‘I don't care what I do as long as I can get out of this podunk town’ degree.”

Tweek twisted back around to face the windshield with a chuckle. “Do your basics at co-community college, then move on to a f-four year when you know what you wanna do. You’re eh-eighteen, [First Name] nothing needs to be set in stone yet.”

The radio was miraculously turned on, Craig choosing a punk station unsurprisingly, and thus drowning out much of what could become conversation for the ride, his grip on Tweeks thigh switching to a much larger paper cup of coffee than your own, the large gulps he took as he steered down the small town streets evidence of what you could guess would be sleep deprivation.

“Mornings are for coffee and contemplation, kids.” He muttered, his boyfriend chugging his own morning mug of joe in the passenger seat with a twitchy smile as the car rolled on by the neighbourhood bus stop.

Kyle and and Stan stood side beside as they always did, clad in the required winter attire for the less than thrilling weather, both of them raising hand in welcome to the familiar approaching form of Kenny, who rose a hand in greeting as well from much further on down the way, the scene a tad funny, given that you knew for a fact Kyle had a working hybrid car waiting for him at home if he so wished to drive it, and that there was no need for him to wait up at the bus stop with his friends any longer.

Maybe it was a first day of the year tradition or something, but either way, it seemed a bit odd, and you looked away from the exchange unfolding outside your window, focusing on exactly what Craig prompted; Coffee and contemplation.

 

* * *

 

“What is UP my BITCHES?” Clyde Donovan slug an arm around yours and Craig's necks, weighing the two of you down with his hulking frame that he accomplished through years of sports training and summers full of weight lifting. “SENIORS WALKING, FRESHMEN, BOUNCE BACK!”

He kicked playfully at a few frightened fourteen year olds, cackling when they shrank away, goading both you and Craig to share an annoyed groan and shake him off as your group of friends slowly grouped together in the now familiar halls of South Park High School. Token strode near the front, fingers linked together with his long time girlfriend Nicole’s ring lined ones, the trio of you and your two closest friends taking up the middle while Tweek and Jimmy shuffled around at the rear, the two picking up their own conversation and sharing a laugh over the outrageous energy Clyde was expelling, clearly the only one so hype for Senior year.

“Bounce back?” You chided immediately, rubbing at your now sore neck, Craig taking to cracking the joints with satisfying popping noises that you only wished you could have achieved.

Clyde blinked, tugging last year's junior varsity football letterman close to his form with mild uncertainty. “You know? Like, uh, back off? Get out of my way?”

“Whatever man.” Craig droned, clearly just as unimpressed as you were with the expression. He surveyed the halls, taking in the scene of jittery freshmen and pre-exhausted seniors as if it was any other day and not the start of his final year at the too-small and under unfunded school.

The lockers were banged up and rusted in some areas, plenty of them scribbled with sharpie graffiti or sporting half scratched off stickers that represented local bands or the like, everyone weaving in and out of each other as the newest of the flock tried to seem small and invisible while the older and more established of the lot like your group attempted to collect all the missing pieces of their cliques before heading to the cafeteria to grab classlists.

It was easy enough to find Token and Clyde, the two of them waiting beside Token’s luxury sedan up until Craig pulled into the spot beside him and the fove of you wandered into the school in search of the rest of of your crew. Jimmy had been chatting up a couple sophomores by the water fountain and telling a few jokes, his specialty by all rights, when you found him. After a wave of his crutches and a brilliant braceless smile, he dipped into the gang and followed everyone until Nichole was found with her friends and almost immediately expunged from the aforementioned group to hold hands with her boyfriend as he lead everyone to the cafeteria.

Timmy was the last to be found, skirting around the curves of foot traffic, creating his own flow with careful windings around the slower peers you shared and coming to a stop just inside the cafeteria doors, waiting patiently for his friends to arrive.

“‘Sup Professor T?” Token was the first to greet the ginger, clapping a free hand on his shoulder as Timmy let out an excited laugh, proof he was happy to see his faithful companions in all their first day glory.

Dusting fingers across a keypad that rested just beside his right hand, Timmy began to type out a response, a speaker box beside his head jerking to life with a mildly human like voice.

“ _Nothing much._ ” He replied easily, the artificial tone dipping into a vaguely British accent as it had since Timmy gained his speech sympathizer in seventh grade. “ _Just waiting on you all. Everyone feeling good about today so far?_ ”

“Ah! Bebe!” Came Nichole’s voice, drawing everyone's attention to her as she spotted one of her best friends enter the vast room, she broke from the group, kissing Token in chaste. “I love you, I’ll see you later Babe. Nice to see you guys, but Bebe and I need to make sure we’re in some classes together this year or it's going to be tragic!”

She was met with a chorus of goodbyes from each member of the group, Token watching dreamily after her as she disappeared into the thick of the crowds, the rest of the guys and you turning your focus back to your long time friend.

“Tweek brought me coffee, I’m having a good morning so far… Kinda.” You piped up, your friend rushing to type with his token goofy smile. “Eric is, as my group chat name suggests, still a raging chode.”

“ _Ah. I see. Then are you perhaps hoping for someone specific to be in your classes to maybe make up for what I assume was a rude awakening this morning?_ ”

“Yeah, McCormick.” Craig input with his nasally voice, reaching over to nudge you with his elbow. “You shoulda seen her with with him this morning Timmy.”

“ _Do tell._ ” The wheelchair bound boy urged, wagging eyebrows as the group dispelled their own laughs, Jimmy’s snickers matching the guise of Clydes as they hunched close together, pointing at the pink of your cheeks.

“It was nothing, guys. Shut up.” You defended, the heat in your cheeks spreading to a flush down your neck.

“W-wha-whatever you say-” Jimmy had the nerve to slyly quip, wobbling on his crutches as he stumbled back from your reach, earning him a sharp glare since a smack on the arm wouldn’t suffice, which only drove him into a stronger cackle of laughter, Clyde jabbing at you right after.

“Want me to talk to Kenny? I know he’s always waiting to hop on some fine ass, and you, precious [First Name]; you got the booty.” He grinned wolfishly, Tweek making a gagging noise in time with your own, only proving to make the boy sputter another laugh that he tried to stifle with his hand as he caught sight of something in the distance, all eyes following his own as they trailed to the opposite cafeteria doors where the aforementioned crush of yours strolled in with his friends, plain as day.

A pause befell the group, but just a suddenly as the silence came, you cut it with a venomous tone.

“Don't any of you dare-”

“Go go go go,” Clyde urged, suddenly taking you by the wrist and spinning you in Kenny’s direction, ushering you right into the flow of the foot traffic. “Be free! Make good choices! Don’t do drugs!”

“Find us at lunch!” Tweek yelled over the heads of your peers, and before you could respond you were swept into the sea of students rushing to grab schedules, your best friends having thrown you to the fishes to perish.

You waded through the theoretical waters, winding around lunch tables that held teachers or the basic members of the faculty, all dulling out crisp and freshly printed schedules to the upperclassmen, greeting every student with muted enthusiasm and handing the papers that would in many cases, decided the friends they made or kept and the experiences they would be graced with for the year.

You breezed by several tables, all listing random letters of the alphabet to signify where your peers were supposed to stop by and collect their class lists based on their last name, and you made the effort to find your own table and snag your schedule, since you have to eventually anyhow.

You stepped away from the table, allowing others who had flocked there to take their own and glanced over your classes, seeming pleased with the outline despite how packed it felt.

 

 **_First Period - Mr. Hamble:_ ** _AP Physics_

 **_Second Period - Mrs. Chambers:_ ** _AP English Lit I_

 **_Third Period - Mrs. Chambers:_ ** _AP English Lit II_

 **_Fourth Period - Mr. Hood:_ ** _Gym_

**SECOND LUNCH**

**_Fifth Period - Mr. Adams:_ ** _History and Social Studies_

 **_Sixth Period - Ms. Davis:_ ** _AP Calculus_

  


With a full six course set you knew the next few months would be spent huddled over at Craig’s for impromptu study sessions or at the town library to stuff your face in textbooks by your lonesome, and you were impressed with the schedule, even if it was annoying you had mostly advanced placement classes, mostly due to the fact you had tried your hardest through your middle school and earlier high school years to follow after Craig’s footsteps.

Despite the overly sarcastic shell the boy put on he was quite intelligent, and his straight A’s from elementary until now had proven that fact hundreds of times over, as well as his interest in aerospace engineering and anything related to NASA space programs. You had admired his work ethic way back in the day, and because of that, you had subsequently set yourself up for success from trying to copy his focus on his studies, leading to good grades yourself, though they had never exactly aligned to the fabled 4.0 your best friend strictly groomed for himself.

“Whatcha got this year, New Kid?” A cool voice made you look away from your paper and blink stupidly, taking in the brilliant smile of its owner as he came to rest by your side, the soft air of cigarette smoke that wafted off him somehow comforting in the moment.

With none of his friends at his side, you took a moment to sweep a gaze over the cafeteria, finding them all to be spread out over the expanse of the room, each one standing in line to grab their own schedules for their year. Glad to be in the clear from a potential ambush by Eric or the others, you turned back to Kenny, but felt that familiar hammering of your heart in your chest and mentally cursed yourself.

Why couldn't you act cool, if just for once in your goddamn life?

“I, Uh,” you stumbled around to say something as your crush offered a smile in return, but your schedule was plucked from your hands, Kenny taking it and unfurling his own, comparing them side by side. His eyes racked down the lists, and he snorted a laugh. “What? What is it?”

‘ _God, do we have a class together?_ ’ You thought to yourself, praying more so than anything. An excuse to spend a class with the blond without the annoying presence of your step sibling sounded like heaven on earth.

“Looks like we’ll be seeing more of each other is all.” He spun the papers around, allowing you to read over them and see where exactly the classes matched up and you could actually get a moment alone with him.

You blinked once. Twice. Three times.

For a moment you had to mentally steady yourself, feeling blinded by the creeping realization that… Jesus christ… Both schedules were identical. First period? AP Physics with Mr. Hamble. Second period? Third Period? Double classes of AP English Lit with Mrs. Chambers.

The similarities went on, the lunch period matching your own and Gym class doing the same.

“Not to be rude as shit, but how the hell did you get into AP?” You took your class list back, folding it carefully and meeting his eyes hesitantly.

Kenny shrugged. “I’m good in history and english but as far as the other shit goes? I’m a fucking idiot. Maybe the computers fucked up, who knows… Besides, I’m not too peeved.”

“AP is a lot of work, man.” You reminded him, raising a brow at his nonchalant tone.

He paused, thinking of his next words carefully, the rest of the seniors hustling and bustling by the two of you as you stood beside another in a beat of silence. He smirked, raising his gaze over your head as someone called for him.

You followed his eyes, seeing the red headed Kyle waving from beside a set of doors opposite to the ones you and your own friends had entered from, your step brother weaving through the crowd in the direction of him just as Stan came beside the doors himself.

“Kenny! Come on man! Let's find our lockers dude!” You barely heard Kyle yell over the sea of students, but the demand was clear and Kenny made a move to step away from you, brushing your arm as he passed.

“Guess that means you’ll have to tutor me then New Kid. See ya in class.” He said as he departed, leaving you by your lonesome for a second time that morning, disappearing into the crowd before you had the chance to turn and reply, forcing you to rub at a reddened cheek, finally noticing the heat that had risen in them from his comment.

All things considered, knowing that he certainly had little to no interest in you as far as anything serious went, you had to admit something to yourself… Kenny McCormick was smooth as hell.


End file.
